CHAPTER 1: THE MISSION

I wouldn't call my life special. In fact, it barely belongs to me. 

Every step I take, every decision I make—it's all hers. 

My mother, the woman who demands perfection. 

My feet pound against the pavement. The burn in my lungs? A reminder. No room for weakness. No room for mistakes. 

I don't stop running until she says so. 

The moment I step into the basement, the sharp scent of gunpowder fills my lungs. My trainer waits, arms crossed, unimpressed. We skip pleasantries. I take my position at the range. 

Gun in hand, something inside me settles. The focus. The rush. The crack of the shot as the bullet finds its mark. 

A small smile tugs at my lips— 

"What's there to feel proud of?" 

The voice slices through me. Cold. Sharp. 

My body tenses. I don't need to turn around to know. 

My mother steps forward, heels clicking against concrete. Her gaze sweeps over me, filled with disdain. "Just one shot, and you think you've achieved something?" 

I school my face into blank obedience. Any reaction would be a mistake. 

Her next words are calm, clipped. "Follow me." 

I set the gun down, hands steady even as my insides churn. 

---

Her office is as cold as she is. Everything in its place. No warmth, no comfort. She doesn't sit. Just leans against the desk and tosses a photograph onto the surface. 

"A mission," she says. 

I step forward. One glance, and my pulse spikes. 

Adrian Morreti. 

Golden-blond hair. Cold blue eyes. The only son of the most feared man in the underworld. 

I know of him. Everyone does. 

"You'll become his friend," my mother orders. "Gain his trust. Learn his father's secrets." 

Silence stretches. I keep my face unreadable, but she sees the flicker of hesitation. Her lips curl. 

"No matter what you do, Fiona, a girl will always be a girl." 

I don't react. I don't argue. 

It wouldn't change anything. 

Fiona ceases

to exist that night. 

By morning, I am Jake Griffo.